The Consequences of Power
by YaOiFr3aK
Summary: The exploration of both Charles Xavier's and Erik Lensherr's psyche after the separation of the mutants on the beach, and ultimately from each other. A Charles/Erik classic love story, based off of the movie X-men: First Class.


**A/N: **This story has been unbeta-ed and I am actually looking for one to help me edit this story, I'm not really sure where the story should go, so I'm up for suggestions! Please comment or message me if you're interested in editing it! :D There is also some pornish material in here, just sayin. I hope you enjoy it, it's kind of like a prequel right now.

I do not own X-Men or any of the characters (although that wouldn't be half bad to own James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender).

* * *

><p><em><strong>Erik<strong>_

Erik was one to endure pain internally. Ever since he left that fucker Shaw he had never let anyone illicit so much as a frown from him, he always kept an expression of apathy upon his face. Letting your emotions show carelessly was dangerous, getting close to people was dangerous, that's why he always traveled light and made no acquaintances. However, there was one exemption to his rule, and that exemption's name was Charles Xavier.

That accursed, vile, brilliant, and wonderful, Charles Xavier. He doesn't exactly know what about Charles made him an exception. Was it the fact that Charles believed with his whole being that Erik was more than a weapon? Or was it because every time he smiled or gazed into Erik's eyes there was always an unfamiliar warmth that crept through his body? He never found out what it was, and now, he never will.

He's had nightmares every night since that day on the beach, that's one way he copes with distress. Erik hears his friend's cry of agony as clearly as he heard it right at that moment; he still feels Charles' trembling panic as he hold him. Sometimes the ending changes though. Once, he dreamed that Charles died right in his arms, he felt the comforting heat he had grown to love slowly evaporate from his body, and watched the glow from his ocean eyes vanish. The pain was far worse than anything Shaw had inflicted on him, and he is sure it is worse than anything he will ever experience.

But the ache he endures when he's awake is close competition. The absence of another person is obscenely ruthless for him, but he reasons that it's not just anybody that's missing, it's _Charles. _And it annoys that shit out of Erik. He was the merciless and powerful Magneto for fuck's sake. If he wanted he could sleep with any woman with a crook of a finger, and she would be more than happy to welcome him with open legs.

He almost slept with Emma, hadn't he? That's clearly what he was implying when he said, "He's left a gap in my mind and I was hoping you could fill it." Why did he say that anyways? Did he think it made him sound bad ass? Gods, he just ended up making a complete fool of himself when he couldn't get hard despite Emma's most convincing allure. Erik has slept with women, but that was before Charles…

He could have Raven; her blue skin had an exotic touch that sent chills up Erik's spine, but every time the chill passed through his body he immediately wanted to vomit afterwards. She had been a sister to Charles and having her in his bed would be…wrong, dirty. Something about it made him feel as though he would be betraying Charles, betraying their love.

And it was reasons like those that kept his bed empty, cold. Often he would lie awake and stare at the hollow space next to him. He would imagine his beloved Charles lying next to him, smiling with those full red lips, glowing from the moonlight hitting his perfect pale skin, and brushing his mind with his own to remind Erik that he wasn't alone, and he never will be. But, obviously, that was a lie.

Other times, he couldn't keep his mind from straying to more erotic thoughts. Memories of Charles' naked body withering beneath him would find their way into his head. Jesus, the way his lips wrapped perfectly around Erik's cock was insane, he would lick at the slit on the head and nibble at one of the veins before taking the whole length into his mouth. Just like that, Erik was reaching for his throbbing erection. He moaned when he grasped his cock, it had been so achingly long since he pleasured himself.

He gave it one long stroke to the memory of Charles straddling him and remembered that complacent grin on his face before bucking his hips so that his cock bobbed against Erik's. Feeling a bit challenged by the smaller man's smugness Erik had pulled him down for a suffocating kiss and held his ass cheeks in place before bucking his own hips upwards, causing a satisfied moan to escape Charles' mouth. Another few hard and long stokes.

By then Erik's breathing was erratic as he lied alone in his bed, he tried to stifle his noises remembering that he wasn't the only person in his domain. He clenched his teeth a bit too tightly when he rubbed the head of his penis, just as Charles loved to do, that fucking cock tease. He did this until he felt his head start to spin from the overwhelming sensation. Erik then recalled his lover placing his hole above Erik's member and looking straight into his eyes to make sure he was watching. Then with excruciating slowness he lowered himself and Erik's penis twitched inside Charles' hole from the view.

_Your dick is being voraciously taken in by my arse Erik, _he remembers hearing in his head. Gods, Charles knew that he loved it when he talked dirty, especially in his head where he could hear it loud and clear. All the while he had been stroking vigorously attempting and failing to mimic the feverish heat inside Charles. Erik feels a twinge of disgust and guilt come over him, he was marring his memory of Charles by doing this, but the need and the want was just too much. He pushed the negative feelings to the corner of his mind before returning to his fantasy.

He closed his eyes and saw his friend completely impaled on his cock, _impaled_, the word made Erik tremble. His imaginary Charles began sliding Erik's dick in and out with ease until increasing speed. The telepath's ragged breathing echoed inside his mind heightening his sensation.

_You like that don't you, love? Knowing that you're moving inside me, _impaling _my body onto yours. _

"Fuck, Charles, _yes,_" he whispered into the darkness. Then he heard that once composed and mannerly voice squeak with the moaning of his own name _ErikErikErikErik, God, I love you Erik, _and that sent him over the edge. Warmth rolled through his body in his final stokes and he stopped breathing for a few moments as his eyes rolled back. After coming down from his high, he saw his semen spilled onto his hips and stomach. He steadied his breathing for awhile until he whispered, "Charles" into the dark once more.

His vision was blurred by a haze of stinging tears. What has Erik been reduced to? He thought that once he formed his army he had gotten what he wanted, control, revenge, _power_, but in reality he had lost everything. His home_ – _no, their home_, _friends, sure followers were great, but they lacked the qualities of true companions, but most importantly, he lost Charles. The only love he has ever known, his love, their love. Erik has long since realized the severity of his decision, and he wanted to change it. He desperately wanted things to return to what they were.

Waking up at the crack of dawn to see Charles, him drinking morning coffee while Charles drank his tea, and sharing furtive but loving glances at one another across the dining table, training the children, laughing so hard too many of his teeth showed, being annoyed to no end by Charles' idealistic dreams and yet being completely charmed by them, and just plain _feeling_ so effortlessly and freely that he didn't give a damn about his rule. He missed that constant presence in his mind, and screw Emma, she was nowhere near as skilled or as placid as Charles. And he knew that wasn't fair to say, it wasn't her fault he didn't like her, it was his own.

Everything was his fault.

And what he would give to just _fix_ it all. But he can't, he can't just simply take back his words and actions. What has been done has been done. Charles would never take him back now; he could never love Erik again after crippling him and putting him through unimaginable pain.

How could he ever forgive Erik if Erik couldn't even forgive himself?

**_Charles_**

Twenty seven.

That's how many steps Erik took when he walked away from Charles that one day on the beach. Charles doesn't know how he remembers that, but he counted. Why, he wasn't sure. Perhaps it was something solid or concrete inside his mind during that time of insane madness. Erik had left him, he chose power over him. Over their love.

At least, that's what he thought they had. You don't share your darkest or your happiest memories with someone you didn't love would you? And you don't kiss tenderly or hold tightly or make love with someone you didn't care about. So it must've been love, it had to be, that's the last bit of sanity Charles had left to cling to.

He knows he should despise Erik, loath him with every fiber of his being for what he did to him, but he can't. He has tried, but he shouldn't have to, wasn't that supposed to be something that came naturally? Loathing would be a wonderful distraction to the ache he held in his heart every day. Training the young mutants was a nice distraction, though, they were the only reason he had left to live for. He wasn't selfish enough to show his despair over Erik to them, he continued to smile and encourage them like before, but they do truly make him happy. They were the future of the world.

However, it's not until Charles was alone does he feel the weight of his loss on his shoulders. He often laid in his bed wondering what he had done wrong. Why was he not enough to keep Erik on their side? He was well aware of Erik's plan for revenge and his views on mutant and human coexistence, but he thought that he had convinced him otherwise. He had truly believed that over time they had grown to share the same principles, dreams.

…That's what he believed.

_Always the idealist, Charles, _Erik frequently said.

"Yes, always the bloody idealist," he told himself ruefully.

And every night before bed, Charles would wheel over to his closet and take out one of many sweaters (the git would wear nothing but) from Erik's dresser. He would feel the soft fabric between his hands, recalling the countless times he was imprisoned amid two strong arms in a tight embrace and felt the material against his face. Then he would bring it to his nose and inhale the remnants of Erik's essence on them. He hated this nasty habit of his, and maybe it was a bit obsessive, but he needed to fill his need somehow.

He had resolved to throwing out everything and anything Erik had so much as touched while he was staying in his home – no, it's a home no longer to Charles, it's merely a manor now. But like many resolves he made involving Erik, he couldn't bring himself to do it. This was all he had left of him, and if he just tossed it all out then it would mean he was truly gone from Charles' life. He didn't want that. He wanted Erik to be in his life forever. One way or another.

It has occurred to him that he was being a bit drastic about the whole thing, and perhaps he was, but this was different from any pervious relationship he had with any women. Erik wasn't obsessed with Charles' telepathic abilities, he was…_fond _of them, just as he was fond of Charles' cute ass. Sure, his mutant powers made him different from other people, but he didn't want it to be the only thing that made him special to someone. Was that being too conceited, too greedy? Either way, Erik knew it without saying, he understood without question.

What's more, he wasn't some typical story book like most mindless women Charles has encountered, Erik was interesting. There was always something more to his character than his mind would tell, and it both intrigued and thrilled him to find out something new. What made it even more endearing was that Erik _let _him discover them.

He has wondered if Erik let's that other telepathic bitch – no, no, Charles was too intelligent to sink so low as to call women such names – he has wondered if Erik let's that other telepathic _simpleton_ "discover" things about him, too. He must, why wouldn't he? He was presented with a good looking (average in Charles' opinion) woman with services that were similar to his (in and out of bed he supposed), so why wouldn't he seize the opportunity? It made Charles' stomach twist in an uncomfortable way and his heart clench within his chest.

Was he really that expendable?

More often than not, he would tear up over this. Such an immature and mundane thing to shed tears over, and he curses himself for being so weak, but the people he had devoted himself to had left him so easily. Charles knew self pity would get him nowhere, and he was honestly trying his best to adjust…Yet he was alone now.

Before, he had Erik to discuss the young mutants with, to hold him when days were tiring, to share morning tea with, and to push each other's limits. He had him there to kiss and to touch, to let down his mental barriers and share thoughts fluently, Erik was there to indulge Charles' constant sexual desires for him, and he was simply there as an equal.

Even before Erik, he had Raven, but now she was gone as well. He does have the children, but they cannot replace Erik, no one ever will. He wasn't about to telepathically ask Hank to fuck him into the mattress silly.

Lord, he misses him so much it hurts.

But life goes on, with or without you, Charles knows that, and so _his _life must go on, with or without Erik.


End file.
